Going back home is sometimes a difficult experience.

I can remember going back to Detroit after being gone for many, many years. It was a Mission Serve Project right in my old neighborhood. I was really excited to show the group from North River around my old stomping grounds.

The first stop was National Coney Island. Coney Island hot dogs are a novelty in Detroit. Most of them were little, small shops along busy highways. Many of them just had bars and stools to sit on to enjoy the wonderful delicacy. Not this time National Coney Island was a big “fancy” restaurant with tables and chairs and everything. It just wasn’t the same.

Second stop was one of the streets I grew up on, Newport, right off of Jefferson Ave. The little store on the corner was no more. The dance hall, that was a big deal when I was growing up, was in shambles. The duplex I grew up in was now a vacant lot. It just wasn’t the same.

Next stop, Osborne High School. In my day a state-of-the-art high school with swimming pool, rifle range, and all of the modern amenities a high school should have in that day. It looked and old and tiny compared to such schools as we have here in Roswell. I thought to myself Laura F. Osborne would have been embarrassed to see her name on such a facility. It just wasn’t the same.

I then slipped away one day to visit my old church. My grandfather was the pastor, and my family was heavily involved. Amazingly it looked the same. The old while building still stood although the neighborhood was no more. I knocked on the front door and a very kind black woman answered. I explained that this use to be my church and asked if I could just come inside and look around. She offered to show me around. I thought to myself “I know more about his place than you ever will.” I accepted her offer and she proceeded to show me around. It just wasn’t the same–but close.

My point is change will always happen. It is difficult to go back to the good old days to live. We must live in the present and accept the ministry and responsibilities that come our way. I was proud to know that the congregation that met in my old home church was not the one I grew up with, but they were continuing to minister to what was left of the surrounding community, in a sense they had taken up where we left off.

It is important that we prepare the next generation to take up where we left off.

This is my story…